"And that's how you got introduced to Leonard Frakes?" Luisa continued. "What, a mutual admiration society?"
Jake laughed and shook his head. "Mutual? Please, that fucking nut job thought she actually loved him. Stupid fucking airman is what he was, but man, was he committed to their cause."
"So it wasn't love. It wasn't money . . . why'd you sell me out then?" Luisa asked. "You don't sound like someone who commits to an eco-terrorist cause."
Jake shook his head. "Nope. Actually, good old-fashioned blackmail. I got bored in Korea, to put it bluntly. I mean, my dad's the top Bertoli lieutenant, and here I was on year two of manning a fucking outpost along the DMZ. I went months without a decent Italian meal, and for what? I knew how to stand guard. Whoop-de-fucking-do. So, when I heard a few rumors about some of the guys getting some action going, I got involved. Wasn't much, just smuggling some automatic weapons out of Korea for the Yakuzas in Japan, but it broke up the monotony."
"They got caught," Luisa said. Jake nodded.
"They did. Some fucking Air National Guard Captain flying the C-17 with our shit on it landed at Yokosuka Air Base and promptly got snitched on by someone or the other. I covered my tracks pretty well, except that I'd told Sul Ham. She came to me just before I left service, told me that Frakes was going to be going back to the States soon too, and that he'd look me up. I thought she was full of it until he actually did, about three days before the shit at the center went down. Then afterward, he recognized Tomasso and called me."
"So you sold me out. Why not just get rid of him?"
"Because something could’ve gone wrong,” Jake replied. "Besides, you aren't a Bertoli, and if I had, who knew if Sul Ham was going to sell me out? I was covering my ass, plain and simple. Just like I will now."
Jake's foot shot out, without a lot of power, but enough that he kicked Luisa pretty good underneath the table. He rolled out of his seat, reaching beneath his jacket, and I had my pistol out in a flash. "Jake Marconi!"
He froze in mid-draw, his eyes going to me. The door of the diner dinged again, and Pietro walked in, his own gun drawn. "What the fuck?"
"Dad, I . . .” Jake said, his eyes going from me to his father, then freezing, his mouth yawning open as he didn't know what else to say.
"Pietro, say hello to the man who sold Luisa out to Leonard Frakes," I said, my pistol still leveled on Jake. "We've got it all on a recording."
I didn’t want to get Pietro involved, but with Dad out of town, I needed someone whose word and authority were great enough for the accusation I was throwing around. I watched as Pietro's face opened in shock, and he looked from me to Luisa to his son, who was still on his knees on the ground. His pistol faltered, and his hand fell to his side, the pistol still in his grasp. "Jake . . . is this true? Did you betray your oath to the Godfather?"
"Dad . . .” Jake said, his voice trembling before he found his nerve. "Yes. I told Frakes when Mendosa left the house alone. I didn’t know Tomasso would come storming out after her.”
I noticed that all of the diner staff had vanished. They knew enough to not get involved when the word Godfather was uttered and guns came into view. Pietro looked at me, his throat working to find the words. "Why didn't you tell me or your father?"
"I had to make sure who it was, and to make sure it stopped at him," I said simply, my eyes still on Jake. Luisa got out of her seat, leveling her pistol at Jake, and I glanced at Pietro. "I couldn't be sure who had betrayed me, or why."
Pietro nodded, tears welling in his eyes. "I see. And does the conspiracy go any deeper?"
I shook my head. "No. He was blackmailed because of something he did in the military."
Pietro nodded and looked at Jake. "You betrayed the Godfather. You betrayed your friend, and you betrayed your own blood."
Pietro turned his attention to me. "What are your orders, Mr. Bertoli?"
I looked at him, then at Luisa. She kept her pistol on Jake but made her way around toward my side of the diner. As she did, Jake for some reason reached out, grabbing her ankle and yanking, even as his hand went back to his jacket for his pistol. I raised my pistol up, but had no angle on them with the way Luisa fell.
Suddenly, a pistol shot cracked, and Jake was spun backward. I glanced as Pietro lowered his pistol and walked forward, the total enforcer. He held his hand out, but his eyes never left the bleeding form of his son on the floor. "Are you okay, Miss Mendosa?"
"I'm fine," Luisa said, getting to her feet without his help. She pulled her foot back, far out of Jake's reach, and shook her head in exasperation. "Thank you, Pietro."
He ignored the thanks and walked to his son, who was lying on the tile, his shoulder bleeding. Pietro raised his pistol and looked at me. "Wait,” I said.
I grabbed my crutches from where they'd been kept under the table and made my way over to them. “You’d really do this?” I asked.